"Because of Mom's accident?"
No soft-soaping that. His gut burned. J.T. tipped back half a glass of milk, without relief. Hopefully Spike would have some good news for him when they met in a few hours. "Yes, and also as far as having the authorities believe your side of the story."
Nodding, Chris shoveled another spoonful of soupy cereal into his mouth. J.T. waited, ate, the clock ticking by seconds over the door.
Pivoting on the heels of his athletic socks, Chris dumped the rest of his cereal down the disposal and made an overlong production out of washing the bowl. "When you were over there, in Rubistan, I mean—" he paused, washing the spoon—twice "—did you, uh, get scared?"
Water running, he eyed his dad sideways.
"Yeah." J.T. nodded, the understatement of the century. A dry smile tugged one corner of his mouth. "Sometimes so much I thought I'd piss in my pants."
Chris stared back. Shock sent his jaw slack. He dropped the spoon and shifted to face his dad full on. "Really?"
"Really." He'd always thought children needed to feel parents were invincible. Maybe finding out parents were human might not be so bad, after all. Sure would have helped prepare the kid for the breakup. "Only a fool wouldn't have been scared. Anyone can be brave when the odds are in your favor. It's what you do when you're scared that's the true measure of courage."
"Is that from Shakespeare?"
He hadn't even realized Chris knew he read the Bard's works. "Nope. Actually, it's from my old man."
One of the few conversations they'd had. Right after he'd found out Rena was pregnant. Strange how he'd forgotten about going to his father at that time until just now.
Other talks with his dad shifted around in J.T.'s head. Short exchanges, sure. His parents were just as closemouthed as he was, but they made their words count.
Had he done the same? "You don't have to go to school today."
"Yeah, I think I do have to go."
His son was becoming a man. "Okay, then." The kid was probably safer there than at home, anyway. "But remember, you can call me if you have any problems. I'll be there in minutes."
"Thanks, but I'm okay." He pushed away from the counter and started toward the door.
Make the words count. "Son?"
Chris turned. "Yeah?"
"Love ya." J.T. hooked his arm around Chris's neck and pulled him in for a hug.
His son hugged back. Thumping. Rena would have laughed over the fact that men had to hit while they were hugging, but hey, guys understood the lingo.
Thunking his son once more on the back, J.T. pulled away. "And you're still grounded 'til the end of time."
Grinning, Chris shrugged, baggy clothes rippling. "I figured as much."
"Go grab your backpack and I'll see what's keeping your mother."
Scooping a muffin off the counter for his wife, J.T. hoped the upcoming talk with Rena could go even half as well as the one with his son, simple, low-key. Otherwise, they were all screwed.
She was so screwed.
Inching back from the kitchen door, Rena steadied her steps if not her pulse. The image of father and son, standing together, white athletic socks on crossed feet side by side, squeezed all those pregnancy emotions until she could barely breathe. Watching J.T. and Chris in sync like that was … perfect, the family she'd always wanted.
Well, without bricks flying through her window.
The fear from the night before quivered through her again. Followed by the oh so vividly red memories of how she'd escaped that fear.
Slumping against the wall by a wrought-iron plant stand, she let herself enjoy looking at J.T. Waking up alone had been disappointing. But then she'd realized J.T. probably couldn't have woken her anyway, as deeply as she slept. She'd squelched down hurt, forced herself to think clearly. He was being considerate by letting her sleep.
Quit thinking with her hormones and start using her brain or she'd never get through this with her heart intact. But oh, as she stared at J.T., freshly showered and shaved in his flight suit, strong jaw and handsome face that only grew more appealing with age, her emotions did so want control over her.